Our Last Goodbye
by Dragonfly-Moonlight
Summary: The time has come to say goodbye. I do not own Speed Racer.
1. Chapter 1

A quick note: Forgot the recommended music for this chapter. So here it is. Recommended Music: Good Rats by Dropkick Murphys

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Trixie sighed and shook her head as she and Sparky drove past a group of women who had their radio up rather loud. Their voices rang out with the music. She glanced at them then quickly averted her attention at the same time Sparky let out a low whistle. 

"Wow," he breathed. "Did you see that group of women, Trix?"

"Yes," she replied stiffly. "As a matter of fact, I did. I even heard them."

"Man, they were _hot_!" Sparky continued, oblivious to her obvious rage at the situation. The girls in question had been wearing cut-off shorts, sandals, and bikini tops under tank tops, and Trixie hated it. Sure, it was the middle of August and the temperature was in the mid-eighties. Nearly everyone was wearing shorts and tank tops that day, herself included. But these women were different. Unlike her, they actually _looked_ good dressed that way.

"I noticed," she ground out.

"Yeah . . . wish I could have been one of those guys that were with them. Man, are they ever lucky! I wonder who they're here to cheer for."

"Knowing my luck," she retorted, fighting back her surprise that she had failed to notice any men with that group, "they're here to root for Speed."

"You think so? They didn't like the usual group that follows him around."

"Different kind of race, different kind of fan."

"If you say so, Trixie. If you say so."

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An hour had passed and the race had started. Speed, as usual, was having a blast. With the Mach 5, he had not only managed to get the pole position but had managed to maintain the lead on every lap. It could change at any moment. He knew that. Any little thing could go wrong. The steering could go, the brakes . . . he could lose a tire. Despite these worries, Speed enjoyed the lead that he had. If he understood the rules right, he earned extra points for every lap led.

'Great incentive for staying in the lead,' he smirked. 'Wonder if it's possible to lead every lap. Only one way to find out.' With that, he pressed down on the accelerator, putting his competition several more seconds behind him.

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"_And the winner is Speed Racer! Ladies and gentlemen, this has got to be one of the most spectacular races that I have ever seen!"_ the announcer declared. _"This is unbelievable! They're going crazy in the Go Team pit area! Speed Racer has done it again. This has got to be some kind of new record . . ."_

The television shut off with a slight whine and a remote was set down.

"Just as I thought . . . the competition has become unfair . . ."

"Yes. You were right. For once."

Bright red lips grinned at the man who spoke.

"Don't sound so surprised. Are we agreed then on what has to be done?"

A collective pause then several heads began to nod.

"Very well then. I'll talk to the Go Team in an hour. Good day, gentlemen."


	2. Chapter 2

"You were wonderful, Speed!" Trixie gushed. "Absolutely wonderful!"

She had practically thrown herself into his arms the moment he had accepted his trophy and check then stepped down from the podium. He laughed as he embraced her.

"Thanks, Trix. It was really nothing, though," he stated, his smile shining like a hundred watt lightbulb. Around them, cameras flashed and reporters tried to shove their microphones and tape recorders into his face and put a wedge between him and Trixie. Thousands of questions poured forth, all of them the same thing, just worded differently. Somehow, he and his crew managed to get through the mass of people until they'd made it to one of the empty conference rooms. His mother and younger brother were waiting there for them.

"Speedy!"

Immediately, Spritle launched himself towards him. Speed caught him, thankful that he had sharp reflexes. He ruffled his younger brother's hair, giving him a smile, then set him down on the floor. His mother approached him next, hugging him the moment she reached him.

"I'm so proud of you," she murmured.

"Thank you . . ." He returned her embrace then released her, turning to address his crew. "That goes for all of you. I owe every single one of you for today's success. I . . ."

A loud knock on the door cut him, causing everyone to take their attention away from Speed and put it on the one who interrupted. Speed frowned as a woman with short, spiky blonde hair and a black suit entered the room. If it hadn't been for the insincerity in her smile, Speed would have thought her to be attractive.

"Excuse me, Mr. Racer," she began, "I hate to interrupt but this is rather important. Is there somewhere we could talk? In private?"

"That depends," he replied. "Who are you and what do you want to talk about?"

"My name is Lana J. Miles and I'm here to talk to you about disbanding the Mach 5 Go Team for a period of time."

Sparky did his best not to fidget as he, Pops, Trixie, and Speed sat in the conference room with the woman and what appeared to be the entire racing committee about disbanding the Go Team. The idea was absurd in and of itself. He'd thought that Lana (as she called herself) had been joking when she'd first mentioned it.

'Boy, was I wrong! This woman is serious about it! But why? Why would she want to disband our team?'

"What is this really all about?" Speed finally demanded after the room had been silent for what seemed like an eternity. "What reason could you possibly have for wanting to split up the Go Team? This has got to be a sick joke!"

"This is no joke, Mr. Racer," one of the officials stated, wiping his glasses off. "This is actually a very serious matter."

"What has the team done to warrant being disbanded?" Pops inquired, actually keeping a reign on his explosive temper. "As far as I know, you can't legally do this."

"You're right. Legally, we can't make the Go Team disband, go to practice, or anything else like that. However, according to Ms Miles, the field has become unbalanced. Speed wins every race he's in . . ."

"Not every race," the dark-haired youth interjected.

"You win more often than what you lose, Mr. Racer, and it has been a while since you _have_ lost a race," Lana stated coolly. "You have a very distinct advantage over your competition. Your car, the Mach 5, is the fastest ever built, as boasted by your father. There isn't any terrain that the car can't go over. The car's possibilities are endless."

"So? The car's fast. And I keep winning. Big deal," Speed shrugged. "That . . ."

"Mr. Racer," Lana cut him off, "it _is_ a big deal. A _very_ big deal. There are several race car drivers who are as good as you are, and they deserve to win just as much as you do. They've worked as hard as you and deserve a fair chance at winning. However, whenever you race them and don't have to pit for repairs and fuel as often as they do, that puts them at a disadvantage. What we're suggesting is that the Go Team take voluntary and _paid_ time off."

"Voluntary? Paid?" Speed echoed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Lana said, her voice clear, "that the Go Team take this deal that's before them. I am offering to pay the members to go their separate ways for one year and to do what it is that they wish to do. Otherwise, you'll be sitting the season out with no income to support you.

You have twenty four hours to decide."


	3. Chapter 3

Speed glanced at his clock then sighed. In a few more hours, his alarm clock would ring to tell him that it was time to get up. A few hours after that Lana Miles and the racing committee would be expecting the Go Team's answer to their proposal. More specifically, _his_ answer. While Pops, Sparky, and Trixie had declared over and over again that they wouldn't accept the proposal, Speed knew that their statements would mean nothing if _he_ accepted their terms.

'What do I do? I can't stop racing because someone asks me to . . . but I also can't make my crew suffer . . . Pops will be fine . . . he's got the factory. And Sparky will be fine, too. He'll be able to help Pops out with repairs and designs. Trixie . . . she doesn't even really need to work for the Go Team . . . her parents left her one hell of an inheritance. Me, I can live off my earnings for a while . . . but the rest of the crew . . . they can't. That isn't fair . . . they shouldn't have to suffer because we're being stubborn.'

He let out another sigh. Ms Miles and the committee seemed to know just where to hit him. He wondered if Pops had thought about what the rest of the crew would do if the Go-Team got suspended.

'Probably not . . . probably still fuming because they're talking about pitting the Mach 5.'

The harshness of his thoughts left a cold feeling in his stomach. Pops probably _was_ still fuming over the whole ordeal and not thinking about the pit crew.

'No . . . Pops isn't like that. He looks after his employees,' Speed shook his head. 'Still, I can't let him decide for me. Not with the crew's jobs hanging in the balance . . . I can't let anything jeopardize their lives. My life is one thing. Theirs is another . . . Tomorrow, I'll let the committee know my decision. But they're going to give me something in return. I won't go down without one last fight.'

Speed closed his eyes, in hopes of catching at least a few hours of sleep before he had to announce his decision to the world.

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The sun shone brightly, giving off the idea that it was a beautiful and light-hearted day. Speed knew better. The day was anything _but_ beautiful or light-hearted. Of course, it may have been the lack of sleep talking as he made his way to the conference room, Pops, Trixie, and Sparky right behind him. He certainly didn't feel light-hearted. But then only he knew his decision. He hadn't told anyone. It still made him sick to think about what the committee was forcing him to do.

'There is no other choice, though,' he thought grimly as they entered the room. All heads lifted up as they entered. Speed took a deep breath then forced himself to take a seat. 'Here goes nothing.'

Once everyone had taken a seat, the head of the committee glanced at the main members of the Go-Team. His gaze then landed on Speed.

"Has the team reached a decision?"

"We have," Pops stated.

"And?"

"We accept the terms," Speed stated, before the rest of his team could say anything. There was no turning back now.


	4. Chapter 4

"We accept the terms," Speed stated, before the rest of his team could say anything. There was no turning back now.

All eyes landed on him, every single one of them filled with shock. Some were even filled with hints of rage.

"Say again, Mr. Racer?"

"I said, we accept the terms," Speed murmured. "On one condition."

"You are in no position to be setting terms and conditions, Mr. Racer," one official growled. "This is very serious!"

"Calm down," Lana snapped, her cool gaze landing on him. "Tell me what your condition is and we'll consider it."

"I want the rest of the crew to be taken care of properly," he began. "Have another driver assigned to them or something. So long as they can keep working throughout the rest of the season."

"I see . . . Consider it done," she smiled, rising to her feet. "There'll be a press conference in one hour. I suggest you take the time to prepare what it is you're going to say. We'll see you then."

After the racing officials had left the conference room, Speed let out a weary breath and counted down to the imminent explosion. He was not disappointed.

"How could you do that!" Pops shouted. "They had no right to even . . ."

"They were going to take me out of racing for this season one way or another, Pops," Speed replied wearily.

"We still could have fought it," Trixie stated quietly.

"While the rest of the crew suffered. Believe me, I don't like this. I really don't."

"So why'd you accept their terms?" Sparky inquired.

"Because I thought about it last night while trying to get to sleep," he sighed. "I mean, we all have something we can fall back on. You and Pops have the motor factory and so do I. I also have my winnings. Trixie has her inheritance. The rest of the crew doesn't have anything else. I just wanted to be sure that they'd be taken care of. That's all."

"Speed . . ."

"I'm not changing my mind on this, Trixie. I need to think of my crew first. Not my career. If it weren't for those people doing everything they can for me on every race track, I wouldn't be here. You _know_ that." He got to his feet. "My decision stands."

Without another word, Speed left the room.

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Pops watched as his middle child put his foot down then quietly leave the room. Then he let out a heavy sigh. Of course, Speed was right. Someone had to think of the rest of the crew but the boy had not been the only one. He, too, had been thinking about what to do with the rest of the crew. But taking the officials' offer had not been factored into his way of taking care of things.

"I can't believe this," Trixie murmured. "I absolutely can't believe this. It isn't like him to give in so easily!"

"No," Pops shook his head. "It isn't. But he probably felt like he had no choice when he started thinking about the crew. He doesn't want them to suffer because he's being stubborn. I can't blame him for that. Excuse me, I need to go talk to him."

"Sure," the two nodded then Pops followed his son out the door.

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Speed let out a sigh as another wave of dizziness hit him. He leaned against the wall, waiting for it to pass. The lack of sleep was finally catching up to him.

'Once this press conference is over, I'm going home and going back to bed,' he thought idly as he took a deep breath.

"Speed? Are you all right?" a worried voice inquired. Speed smiled a little.

"Yeah, Pops. I'm fine. Just didn't get much sleep last night."

"With the kind of decision you were forced to make, I can understand that . . . you know I wouldn't have let anything happen to our crew, right?"

"I know, Pops . . . I just didn't want to take a chance. This isn't just my life that's hanging in the balance. It's theirs, too, and I hate that," Speed murmured.

"Yeah . . . so do I . . . and, if I know you, you're going to be stubborn about this and not change your mind about fighting this."

"No . . . I'm not."

"I thought so," came the thoughtful response. "Well, I guess there is something good coming from this . . ."

"Oh? What's that?"

"You'll have a little more time to do some of the stuff you've wanted to," Pops replied. "I know you. You're not going to remain idle throughout this."

"Yeah . . . I guess you're right," Speed smiled wanly. "But right now I just want to get this over with then get some sleep."

"If you want to go home, do it. Have Trixie or Sparky drive you there," Pops stated. "I can handle the press conference."

"No . . . I'll do it. It was my decision to make. I'll deal with the consequences."

"You sure?" Pops frowned. "Because I can handle this for the both of us."

"I'm sure."

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Pops glanced at his son as they drove home. The last two hours had been hell. Like the crew, the press had been absolutely shocked to hear that Speed was taking the upcoming year off, but, thanks to the speech he'd written before leaving the house, no one suspected that he was being forced out. Now that it was over, the boy was finally able to relax.

'Don't worry, Speed. We'll get through this,' he vowed, pulling into the driveway. 'One way or another, we will.'


	5. Chapter 5

Trixie stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, bored. It had been two days since Speed had accepted Lana Miles's proposal . . . and two days since she'd actually talked to him. If he called, she promptly hung up on him. If she saw him in a store, she turned and walked the other way after giving him the nastiest of glares. He'd try to say something to her . . . but she never gave him the chance. She was still too angry over his decision.

She understood that it had ultimately been his decision to make. She understood that fact and had accepted it . . . What she hadn't been able to accept was the fact that he had g_iven_ in to the officials. Pops had told her and Sparky that he intended to get a stockcar on the race track if Speed got suspended – Lana Miles had guaranteed that he could do that, so long as he didn't create another Mach 5 – and that he'd transfer the crew to the driver of that car, intending for Janine Trotter to be that driver. The young girl had proven to be an exceptionally skilled driver, especially for having little driving experience. Then Speed had announced his decision, taking what she considered to be the easy way out. Yes, she understood his concern for the rest of the team but he didn't have to accept that _woman's_ offer.

'Why did he give in so easily?' she sighed. 'I just don't get it. That isn't like him.'

Trixie let out another soft sigh then rolled onto her side. The only one who could answer her questions was Speed. She'd have to swallow her anger -- and her pride -- and call him.

Her phone rang just as she started to reach for it. Chuckling a little and figuring it to be Speed, she picked it up.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Trixie!"_ Sparky chirped. _"How are you doing today? Any better?"_

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," she blinked, somewhat surprised. "How are you doing?"

"_Not too bad,"_ he replied. _"Pops is definitely keeping me busy. The racing officials are going to let me be Janine's top mechanic. I'm happy about that."_

"That's good . . ."

_"Yeah . . . anyway, that's not the reason why I'm calling . . . Have you talked to Speed at all?"_

"No," Trixie confessed. "I've been hanging up on him and avoiding him if I see him. I was just getting ready to call him when you called."

"_Same here,"_ he sighed. _"Tell you the truth, I'm getting a little tired of not talking to him. He's my best friend, y'know?"_

"I know," she nodded.

"_Yeah . . . didn't help that Pops chewed me out today for not talking to him."_

"He did? Why?"

"_Well,"_ the mechanic began, hesitating some, _"he said that it was ultimately Speed's decision to make. Not ours and not his, even though he owns the team . . . which I understand. I accept that, even . . ."_

"Did you tell Pops that?"

"_Sure did. Even said something about what Pops's idea of having Janine race . . . that's when he told me Speed never knew. He didn't have a chance to tell him before that final meeting, that he'd been up half the night trying to figure out what to do to fight the ultimatum and still take care of the crew."_

"You mean . . ."

"_Pops and Speed never talked about it before the conference so Speed didn't know what Pops had in mind. Speed's decision was truly his decision . . . because he felt he had no other choice."_

"Oh no," Trixie moaned, falling back onto her bed. "And we've been upset with him for it. Listen, Sparky, I'll talk to you later. I've got to . . ."

"_Get a hold of Speed and apologize?"_ he finished grimly. _"Good luck. He isn't home."_

"He isn't?"

"_No . . . took off sometime last night, according to Pops. They haven't seen him since."_

"Has he contacted them?" she asked, alarmed.

"_Not yet,"_ he sighed. _"I tell ya, Pops looked worried this morning. Speed didn't say anything about leaving."_

"Oh . . ."

"_You going to be okay, Trix?"_

"Yeah," she murmured. "I'll be okay. I just . . . I just need to think . . ."

"_Okay . . . I'll give you a call later . . ."_

She hung up the phone, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling once more.

Speed had taken off.

The thought kept running around in circles in her mind until she felt that it would drive her crazy. Finally, she let out a frustrated growl and sat up.

'I can't just waste my time, moping around! Speed and Sparky obviously aren't! Why should I?'

Crawling out of her bed, Trixie went to her computer and logged on. There had to be something out there for her. She just had to find it.


	6. Chapter 6

Speed sat at the terminal, gazing out at the runway. At his feet sat a carry-on bag, his two suitcases already being stowed onto the plane. With the exception of his trophies, everything he owned were in those bags.

'This is it,' he thought, watching the planes taxi on and off the runway. 'No more racing . . . not for an entire year . . .'

The racing committee had agreed to pay him over two and a half million dollars as a settlement. Pops, Sparky, and Trixie also received two and a half million dollars and his pit crew would be working for Janine Trotter. Everything had worked itself out in the end . . . for the most part. Speed glanced at the piece of paper he held with his ticket, Trixie's handwriting gracing it.

Everyone had decided . . . they were going their separate ways. Sparky was staying in Farmington Hills, to help Pops out and to take a few classes. Trixie had signed up for volunteer work on the west coast, flying her helicopter for out to sea rescues and he . . . He was heading for Philadelphia. To do what, he wasn't quite sure. Their goodbyes had been tear-filled and bittersweet. They'd been the best of friends for as long as he could remember . . . and now they were parting ways, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

'At least they know what they're going to be doing . . . I don't even know . . . Guess I'll figure it out when I get there,' he thought morosely. He let out a sigh and lowered his head. This had not been the life he'd imagined having. He wanted to race, be the best there was . . . settle down and have a life with Trixie.

At that moment, the announcement for his flight boarding came over the intercom and Speed rose to his feet. Going through the motions, he handed his ticket to the flight attendant, murmured his thanks then made his way across the ramp and onto the plane.

It had been heart wrenching, his goodbye to his family. Spritle had cried and thrown a fit, wanting to know why he was leaving. Pops had also gotten upset but didn't say anything against him leaving. It wasn't like he was running out on them . . . like Rex had. His mother, though . . . the sad, knowing look she had given him had hurt the worst.

'She understood . . . even though I don't understand why I'm leaving, she does . . .'

Tears stung at his eyes and he violently shook his head.

'No. This is no time for tears. They're expecting me to be strong . . . to pull through this . . . It's only a year. I'm only going to be gone for a year. Then I'll be back and racing once more.'

Speed quickly found his seat and stowed his carry-on bag in the compartment above. He could have driven to Philadelphia, he knew, but he'd decided against it. He was too distracted to be able to drive effectively and he didn't want Spritle and Chim Chim stowing away in the trunk. They were known to do that.

'I can think this way,' he told himself, settling into his seat.

More passengers began to fill the plane but Speed really didn't pay any attention to them. He was too lost in his own thoughts, and depression, to really notice . . . until a group of them started to get a little rambunctious once the plane was in the air.

'So much for having some time to think,' he sighed to himself. In order to drown out the disgustingly happy people (or so he felt them to be), Speed put on the headphones for the in-flight movie, picking the first thing that sounded interesting. It promised to be a very long flight.


	7. Chapter 7

Trixie stepped off the plane, her eyes sweeping over the entire area. It had been a long time since she'd been to California . . . without Sparky and Speed, and the prospect of doing something on her own scared her yet excited her at the same time.

'I can do this,' she thought as she went to retrieve her luggage. 'I know I can.'

Unlike Speed, Trixie had a very definite idea as to what she was going to do. She had the talent and the skill, and it wasn't something the racing officials could ban her from doing. And that was flying.

As her thoughts went to Sparky and Speed, she sighed. She'd been there as Speed had made his decision to move out and head for Philadelphia. It had been a heart-wrenching scene to see. Spritle had been devastated and had started crying. The fact that he adored his older brother had not been lost on anyone. It tore the youngster apart that he couldn't go where Speed was going.

'Pops had been upset, too,' she mused, watching as suitcase after suitcase rolled by. 'I'm surprised he didn't blow a gasket after Speed had made his announcement.'

The Racer patriarch had always had a bit of a volatile temper. He exploded but he'd never hit any of his children. Trixie had often been reminded of a big bear when it came to Pops and his family. Strong, burly, and protective. Those three words were the foundation that was Pops Racer.

And if strong, burly, and protective described Pops, loving, compassionate, and understanding were the words that described Speed's mother, Rachel. Her sad expression had been what truly had killed her and Speed both when they and Sparky had announced their intentions for the next year.

'I can't believe we each agreed to go our separate ways . . . I would have thought for sure Speed would have wanted me to go with him or come with me . . . Maybe I shouldn't have ignored him for two days after he made that announcement.'

Having finally retrieved her suitcases, Trixie made her way to the rental car company so she could get to her apartment. Unlike Speed, she had a place to say while she was in San Francisco. Her parents had left her the house in Farmington Hills and an apartment in San Francisco. Her brothers got the other homes across the country. Because she didn't really such a large house to herself, she'd sold it. The apartment in San Francisco had almost met the same fate, until Speed had advised her against it. It would save them hotel expenses from when he raced in California, he'd stated, and she'd agreed.

'There was more to it, though,' she thought as she signed the paperwork for the car. 'He liked the idea of having a place to go during the off-season . . . somewhere to rest . . . It's like he wanted to have a place that would help him to get away from the pressures that surrounded him . . . Maybe him being in Philadelphia will be just what he needs.'

The paperwork complete, Trixie followed the clerk to her car and made her way to her new home. Tomorrow she started her new job. Today, she just wanted relax . . . and allow herself to remember . . .

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Speed fought back a groan the moment the music started. The group that had started all of the talking had decided they were going to celebrate. What, he didn't know but he could tell by their music, they were in quite the good mood.

'At least this isn't going to be a boring trip,' he thought as he gazed out the window. Somewhere, deep inside of him, something started to relax . . .


	8. Chapter 8

_In Philadelphia_

"Here you go, Mr. Racer," the receptionist stated with a smile. She handed him a key. "You're in room 205. Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks," he murmured, hefting his bag onto his shoulder. Then he left the main lobby and headed for his room.

The flight to Philadelphia had been a long one. Unbelievably long. The man next to him kept glancing at him and it had made him uncomfortable. Then there was that large group of people who had turned the music on. They had been unusually happy and rambunctious. Several of the men flirted with the girls that were with them and the female flight attendants. Of course, the girls had flirted right back and with the male flight attendants. It had been strange and barely comprehensible to him.

'Of course, there were some that didn't flirt,' he reasoned. 'Some even looked like they were dating each other . . . like that guy with dark hair and the girl with the blonde hair. They really seemed to be into each other . . .'

Thinking about that couple made him think of Trixie and a slight twinge of guilt nagged at him. He missed her and they hadn't even be separated for more than a day. His hand slid into his pocket and grasped the piece of paper there.

'I can call her,' Speed told himself, allowing himself a tiny smile, the first smile in what felt like weeks. 'California's three hours behind still . . . she shouldn't be too busy. That is, if she's there already. If not . . . I'll just leave a message.'

"Speed?"

Startled at the familiar voice, Speed turned around to see Racer X entering the hotel lobby. He blinked a couple of times, figuring he was seeing things. It was only when Racer X only got closer did he decide he wasn't seeing things.

"Racer X . . . what are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd take a few races off and take a small tour of Philadelphia," he grinned. "What about you? What are you doing here?"

"Not sure," Speed shrugged. "Just seemed like the place to go."

"I see . . . just one stop on your hiatus from racing then?"

"Yeah," he murmured sadly. "Just one stop on my hiatus from racing. Excuse me . . . I need to get to my room."

With that, he took off for the elevator . . .

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Racer X shook his head and sighed as he watched his younger brother make a mad dash for the elevator. He knew about the committee's threat to Speed and, quite honestly, had been very upset about it.

'But I can't let him know that I know,' Rex thought sadly. 'Dammit, why did this have to happen? He's worked so hard to get where he's at and to have it taken away like that . . .'

Rex shook his head. All it would take would be a few, well-placed, anonymous comments and Speed would be back behind the driver's wheel. However, he once again refrained. Someone on the team would get blamed and Speed would be pushed further into the corner.

'Don't worry, Speed. You'll get through this. I know you will.'

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_In San Francisco_

Trixie finished unpacking her suitcase then let out a weary sigh. All that was left for her now was to make a final round of the apartment to make sure everything was working properly. Then . . . then she could take a breather and try to relax.

'I still can't believe all this is happening,' she thought. 'The team . . . separated. By will and by distance.'

She let out another sigh. For a brief moment, she wished she had gone to Philadelphia. Even though she didn't have a place there and probably wouldn't be able to fly a helicopter much (unless she had signed up for E.M.T. work), she would at least have been with Speed. Trixie glanced at her watch.

'Only three here . . . and Speed's at his hotel . . . maybe I should call him back . . . see how he's doing . . . after I check the apartment one final time.'

Putting the suitcase in her closet, Trixie stretched her back then made her way around her apartment. After she'd made sure everything was to her satisfaction, she ordered herself some take-out then began to dial the number to Speed's hotel room.

'Here's hoping he's in,' she thought as the phone rang . . .

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_In Farmington Hills_

"That's the last one, Pops!" Sparky called out, putting the last tire in its stack. The entire day, after he had seen Trixie and Speed to the airport, had been spent helping Pops do inventory of the factory and making sure everything was up to Pops' standards. Sure, they had to meet local, state, and federal guidelines, which were rather high, but Pops felt that, in order to make a good quality vehicle, his standards had to be higher than those placed by the government. The factory workers often joked around, calling Pops a slave driver, but they knew. They all knew. Quality over quantity. That had become Pops' motto.

"Okay, Sparky!" came the reply. "Go ahead and take the rest of the day off. Spend it with Janine. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

"Thanks Pops," he breathed, his shoulders sagging in relief.

"No problem, Sparky. Enjoy yourself!"

"I will," he promised as he took off out the door. Already, he was forming ideas as to what he and Janine could do for the rest of the day . . . well, evening. Dinner was definitely not out of the question nor was a movie. Excitement began to wash over him.

'I'll call her the moment I get home. After that, a shower. Then I'll . . .'

He paused in mid-thought, catching himself. For a moment, he had thought about calling Speed and Trixie, to see if they wanted to join him and Janine.

'I forgot . . . she's in San Francisco and he's in Philadelphia. They can't go out with us tonight . . . not for another year at least. If they want to come back, that is . . .'

The thought hit him like nothing else ever had and he had to keep himself from crying out. He didn't want to think like that. It was simply too depressing.

'No . . . they'll come back. I know they will. They just have to . . . they just have to . . .'

So he kept telling himself as Sparky continued on his way.


	9. Chapter 9

Speed let out a weary sigh as his eyes skimmed over the help wanted and rooms for rent ads in the newspaper. He knew he didn't really have to find anything in the way of a job -- the cool million the racing committee had given him ensured that -- but he wasn't one to stay idle. For as long as he could remember, he'd always been active. Sitting around, doing nothing would kill him. He knew it.

'And that was part of the reason why I came here,' Speed reasoned as he circled a want ad with a red marker. 'To learn something new . . . see if I can't survive on my own.'

The first month and a half had gone by rather quickly and in a blur. He knew that Racer X had been in Philadelphia at some point but he wasn't sure if the older man was still there. Not that he wanted him to be. The last thing he really wanted was for anyone to look at him with sympathy and pity, especially Racer X. He also knew that he'd talked to his family and to Sparky and Trixie at some point but couldn't remember when. It had taken him to nearly get run over one day to shake him out of his stupor.

'Of course, most of the jobs have probably been taken by now,' he thought as he continued to look over the ads. 'Stupid me . . . and this is getting me nowhere. I must have looked at the same page a dozen times by now . . . I don't have any job skills other than racing . . . I should have known this wouldn't work.'

He heaved a weary sigh and was about to toss the paper to the side when one of the want ads suddenly caught his attention. Frowning, he leaned in closer to read it. Of course, he'd read ever help wanted ad that he thought would apply to him but somehow . . . he managed to skip over this one.

"Sports bar seeking help," he murmured, folding his arms. "Excellent wages and many positions available. No experience necessary. Apply in person at Ruby's, Mondays through Fridays, after four p.m. No phone calls please."

Speed sat back and blinked. A sports bar? The thought sounded absolutely preposterous . . . yet enticing. He'd always been into sports, having played whatever he could throughout high school on top of racing . . .

'Besides, I don't have anything to lose . . .'

He glanced up at the clock.

'Almost four now . . . if I leave now, I can beat most of the traffic . . .'

Grabbing his jacket, his hotel key, license, social security card, and the paper, Speed exited the room and headed for the main lobby . . .

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Trixie sighed as the phone rang for the one dozenth time before she finally hung up. She'd been trying to get a hold of Speed for the last twenty minutes but he'd not been answering his phone. It was irritating her to no end.

'Why isn't he answering?' she groused. 'It isn't like he's been doing anything lately. In fact, he's been hanging around his hotel all day. He told me as much the last time we talked!'

As she stood there, fuming, Trixie started to think about the last time that she and Speed had talked. The last several times, in fact. He had sounded so dazed, so depressed, like he still couldn't believe that everything that had happened had truly happened.

'But it was his decision to do what the racing committee wanted,' she frowned. Of course, though it had been his decision, the fact that racing had become Speed's life was not lost on Trixie. Far from it. And now that she thought about it, she became very, very worried about her beau.

'He did something he didn't truly want to do. He never wanted to give up racing . . . never wanted to stop driving the Mach 5 . . . oh, god, I hope he's all right.'

For a brief moment, her mind entertained the notion that perhaps Speed was out drinking his worries away or, worse, slowly killing himself. Or maybe he was wandering around Philadelphia, looking for the right moment to jump in front of a moving vehicle.

As quickly as the thoughts entered her mind, Trixie quickly shook them away. There wasn't anyway Speed would do something like that. She had to believe that. After all, they now had less than a year to go before he could start racing again. Then they could be a team once more.

'No . . . we're more than a team. We're a family. We've built our lives to Speed's racing career. There isn't anything else that we want to do. I just know it.'

The more she thought about it, the more Trixie became satisfied with the answer. Speed wasn't suicidal, he was just . . . out. Why, she didn't know but, when she talked to him again (and hopefully he'd be calling her that night), she'd find out. In the meantime, she would sit back, relax . . . maybe order some food . . . take in a movie . . .

Her phone chose to ring at that moment and she practically scrambled to answer it. As her fingers started to grasp the receiver, it slipped. She fumbled for a few moments, trying to keep the phone from hitting the floor. Once it was firmly in her grasp, she brought it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Trixie!"_

"Chip," she blinked, her heart dropping in disappointment. For a moment, she thought it might have been Speed calling her back. "Hey . . . what's up?"

"_Oh, not much,"_ he replied cheerfully. _"Was just wondering what you were doing for tonight."_

"Oh . . . not much . . . why?"

"_Wanna go to a movie? A whole group of us is going."_

"A whole group?" Trixie blinked. "Who else?"

"_Britney, James, Mike, Sara, Jade . . . me . . ."_

"I see . . ."

"_Whaddya say, Trix? Gonna come?"_

"I don't know," she frowned, biting her lower lip. "I _was_ going to wait and see if my boyfriend was going to call me . . ."

"_Awww, come on, Trixie. The guy's probably out having the time of his life! You should do the same!"_

"It isn't that easy . . ." she began but he cut her off.

"_Sure it is! You just call him, tell him that you're going out for the evening and that you'll give him a call back tomorrow if he does decide to call you. Please, Trixie? It'll be fun. I promise!"_

Trixie hesitated. On one hand, she didn't want Speed to call her and her not be there for him. He was going through a bit of a rough patch, after all, and she knew it. On the other hand, she knew that Chip was right. She _did_ need to get out a little more and have some more fun. God only knew when she'd be able to do so once Speed began racing again.

"All right," she nodded. "I'll go. What movie are you guys going to and when?"

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Sparky let out a sigh of frustration then wiped the sweat off his forehead. The car he and Pops had been working on for the last week was giving him problems. It had been giving him problems all week. As soon as he got one thing fixed, another problem presented itself. It was enough for him to want to take a sledgehammer and beat the car until it was nothing but scrap metal.

"Why don't you take a break, Sparky?" Pops stated. "You look like you could use one."

"I'll be . . . fine . . ." he ground out, trying to wrench free a rather stubborn bolt. "I don't need a break."

"Actually," Pops began, "you do. I'm afraid you'll hurt yourself if you don't. Go on. Take a break."

Sparky paused for a moment then shoved himself out from underneath the car. He gazed at Pops for a moment, trying to determine whether or not the older man would order him to take a break. Considering Pops had a tired and grim expression on his face, he figured that the Racer patriarch wouldn't hesitate to order him. Sparky let out a sigh as he rubbed his forehead again.

"All right," he muttered. "I'll take one . . ."

"Good," Pops nodded. "Glad to hear it. In fact . . . since it's late already, go home. We'll work on the car tomorrow."

"But the guy's coming to pick it up tomorrow!" Sparky protested, his jaw dropping. Pops shrugged to that.

"Oh well. He wanted his car in tip-top shape and that's what he'll get it in. Go. Get some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow."


	10. Chapter 10

Speed walked to the bar and set down his serving tray, his arms shaking slightly. He took a deep breath then let it out, trying to get his nervousness under control.

It was his third night on the job and already he felt as if he'd stepped on a dozen toes. He'd gotten several orders wrong, had spillt a few drinks, and, in his opinion, being slow on getting to his customers.

"Everything going all right?"

He glanced up to see one of the bar's owners, a blonde-hair woman named Torie, gazing at him, concern shimmering in her eyes. Speed offered a faint smile and nodded.

"Yeah . . . everything's fine . . ."

'If I can just quit making mistakes.'

"Good," she nodded. "Can I speak to you please? In private?"

"Sure," he replied, his mouth suddenly going dry. For some reason, her request to speak with him in private sounded . . . ominous.

"You're not busy, are you?"

"No," he shook his head. "I was just going to make the rounds to my tables . . ."

"Ah. Okay. Well, as long as you have a moment . . ."

She motioned for him to follow her into the back, which he did. He watched as she sat behind the desk. Torie then motioned for him to take a seat.

"Okay, tell me honestly. Is everything going all right?"

Speed blinked then let out a heavy sigh. She obviously could tell that he was having a hard time so there was no sense in denying it.

"Not really," he slowly admitted. "It's proving to be a little more difficult than I first thought."

"And the pace is hectic, right? Something you weren't counting on, either?"

"No," Speed shook his head. "I wasn't expecting it."

"Most never do," she smiled, "especially if they've never worked in a bar atmosphere before."

"Yeah . . ."

"Just take your time, Greg," Torie stated. "The customers will be understanding. They'd rather you get the order right and take your time than you be quick and get the order wrong. Our customers are really cool about that."

Speed blinked at her words, a bit stunned. He'd been expecting the worst. Not this.

"You're not firing me?"

"No," she shook her head, laughing a little. "Why would I do that? The customers like you. They're just worried that you might be pushing yourself too hard."

"Oh . . ."

"Just try to relax and enjoy yourself while working, Greg," she smiled, rising to her feet. "You'll do just fine. You'll see. Now get back to work."

"Okay," he managed to smile back somewhat faintly. Before he left her office, though, he took another deep breath to calm his nerves. All he had to do was relax . . .

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Trixie couldn't help but laugh as she and a group of several of her co-workers/friends watched as Chip, their group leader, made a complete fool of himself. Intentionally. The guy was a veritable clown. Of that, there wasn't any doubt.

For a moment, she could pretend. She could pretend that things were, for the most part, normal. She could pretend that she was simply on vacation, enjoying time spent with some newfound friends. She could pretend that next week she'd be at some exotic location, gearing up for another big race.

Deep down, however, she was beginning to have her doubts. Trixie loved what she was doing, she loved helping people. But she was ready to go back to Farmington Hills. She was ready for the thrill of racing. Whenever she talked to Speed, though, (if she were able to catch him before he left his new apartment) he avoided answering her questions when it came to racing. He either became too tired or had to go because he was meeting some friends.

'I'll get my answers,' she thought as she watched Chip do something else that, no doubt, would be embarrassing to any other guy. 'Philadelphia, here I come.'

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"Are you sure about this?" Sparky swallowed, his eyes wide and his mouth unbelievably dry at that moment. Across from him sat Janine. She nodded.

"Yes. I'm very sure . . . what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," he murmured. "I never thought anything like this would happen."

"I know," she sighed. "I didn't, either. But it has . . . we can't just ignore this."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I know. We'll think of something. I promise."

'Speed, where are you when I need you?'


	11. Chapter 11

Speed did his best to fight back the laughter that threatened to erupt from him. It was a rather hard thing to do, especially since everyone around him was already laughing.

Like with Trixie (although unknown to him), Speed had made some new friends after he'd gotten hired into Ruby's. Most of them were also friends of the owners and several of the bartenders but they were friends all the same. And they were fast becoming family as well. Also, like with Trixie's group, one of Speed's friends happened to be a bit of a goofball. A few of them, actually. These men were not afraid to let it show, either.

Currently, they were up on a makeshift stage in the middle of the floor, dancing around to some music. That itself wasn't so bad. It was the fact that all three men were dressed in pink bunny outfits complete with black, high-heeled shoes, long bunny ears, and fishnet stockings. If he hadn't known better, Speed would have sworn that they were women.

'If only Trixie and Sparky could see this,' he thought, finally letting a bit of his laughter out. Several of his customers cast him a quick glance before thanking him for their drinks and returning their attention back to the . . . live entertainment. 'This place is great.'

Speed felt that, in by choosing Philadelphia as his getaway place, he'd made the right decision. The city itself was rich and alive with history. It never seemed to stop, even after he'd gone to bed. And the people that he'd met . . . he felt at home, more so than what he had in Michigan. That said something to him.

He also didn't miss racing as much as he had when he'd first accepted the racing commission's offer. Granted, he didn't have much of a job – waiting tables and serving beer wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind for his life – but he was enjoying the freedom that he now had. He got to see more people, have a little more time to himself when he needed it . . . and he didn't have to worry about psycho drivers and their team owners. In the short of it, life had become sweet.

'I never knew things could be like this,' he thought as he moved to the next table. Before he could say anything, though, a familiar voice spoke up.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, Speed. I'm glad to see that. But aren't you a bit worried that Trixie would get upset at seeing you ogling dancing girls?"

Speed raised his head to see Racer X sitting at one of his tables, a cigarette in hand.

He was surprised, to say the least, that the Masked Racer had even come here. The only time the owners allowed people in masks in the door were for Halloween and even then they had to take them off at the door to gain entry. Then he glanced to the impromptu stage where the three dancing "girls" – three guys by the names of Robert, C.J., and Killer – were dancing away to what everyone referred to as the "Cha Cha Bunny Song" and shook his head.

"Those aren't dancing girls," he replied, chuckling a little.

"Actually, they are," the Masked Racer stated. "I can tell."

"No," Speed shook his head, "they're not. Those are guys up there."

"Guys?" Racer X echoed.

"Yes. Guys. They're names are Robert, C.J., and Killer, some really close friends of the owners."

"Oh . . . they look like real women."

"I know. So . . . what can I get you?" he inquired. "And, before you order any alcohol, I will need to see some I.D. If I don't and the owners catch wind of it, I'll lose my job."

"A cola will be fine to start with, Speed. I'm expecting some friends to show up soon," Racer X murmured, surprise registering even through his mask. "You actually enjoy working here?"

"I do," he confirmed. "The atmosphere is great, the people are friendly, and the pay's good. What more can I ask for?"

"How about to be racing?"

"I'll be right back with your drink," Speed said, avoiding the question. "Let me know if you'll need anything else."

He quickly turned and headed back for the bar, not wanting to think about what he'd have to do if he had to leave this life behind him . . . and pretend that it never existed.

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Rex watched as his younger brother walked away then let out a sigh. He knew that Trixie and Sparky were on their way to Ruby's at that moment, and he knew that they weren't going to be happy to see Speed working in a place like this.

'This isn't going to be good. I just know it.'

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"You ready, Trixie?" Sparky grinned.

"Absolutely," she breathed, her heart beating loudly in her ears. "I just hope Speed got the message to meet us here."

She quickly straightened out her dress before striding quickly to the entrance of Ruby's Sports Bar and Grille. They had some good news. Some very good news indeed.


	12. Chapter 12

"I need one Coke, three Bloody Marys, two beers, and a glass of wine," Speed stated as he handed his order tickets to the bartender, a young and voluptuous Japanese woman by the name of Kaede. She immediately took the tickets and glanced at them just as he asked, "Where are

Ryan and Torie?"

"In the back," she murmured, looking back at him. "Why? What's up?"

"No particular reason," he managed to smile, setting down his serving tray. "Just curious."

"Oh," Kaede smiled back, hers sympathetic and understanding. "One of those nights?"

"Yeah," Speed nodded. "One of those nights."

"I'll have your drinks ready for you when you get back," Kaede told him as he walked towards the back room.

Speed wasn't about to admit it but Racer X's appearance for a second time during his stay in Philadelphia had Speed somewhat shaken up and irritated. The masked man's questions had also struck a nerve in Speed, a nerve he never knew even existed.

'I don't like this, feeling like others knew what's best for me,' he grumbled to himself. 'They don't know me. They don't know what it is that I want anymore.'

And what he wanted, more than anything, was to be happy. At one point, racing and winning were the only things he could think about. They were the only things that made him happy. However, since he had moved to Philadelphia and had started to work at Ruby's, his perspective had begun to change. He no longer looked at the world through the same eyes.

It was something Torie had told him about, looking at things from a new perspective. That's why Ryan had told him about the no-mask rule at the bar. While they may not feel too threatened by a man wearing a mask, Torie and the female staff would. A man in a mask could not be identified by a woman should he assault her sexually. Once he had seen it from that point of view, Speed had understood . . . and it had made him wonder. Why _did_ Racer X wear that mask? What was he hiding? And did Ryan and Torie know that he was in the bar with a mask on?

'Probably,' he told himself as the back room door came into sight. 'Dana and Steve are working tonight. Nothing ever gets by them . . . and I hope I'm not interrupting anything.'

His cheeks burned a little as he thought of that. It was well-known that, when the music and conversation got too loud, Ryan and Torie discussed business matters in the back room. Sometimes, they even had little making out sessions, to which Speed had somehow had the "privilege" of walking in on one night. It had been rather embarrassing to Speed, given that he and Trixie had never really behaved like that themselves.

'It's a chance every time,' he thought idly as he prepared to knock on the door . . . at the same time Torie opened it. The blonde-haired woman looked startled to see him. Her beau seemed amused.

"Congratulations, Greg," he chuckled. "You just managed to startle Torie. Not very many can say that."

"Oh, hush," Torie quickly retorted, shooting the raven-haired man a mock dirty look. "He just got lucky."

"I'm sorry," Speed chuckled a little. Ryan and Torie had a strange camaraderie about them and it was always entertaining to see. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No," came the reply. "We just finished talking about what we needed to. Did you need anything from in back?"

"No," he began, somewhat hesitant. Now that they were in front of him, Speed found that he couldn't tell them what he felt he needed to. He knew that he could tell them about whatever troubled him – they'd become like an older brother and sister to him – but he still found himself hesitating. Racer X had been there for him as well but not like they had been. It was different, though he couldn't begin to explain how or why that it was.

"What's wrong then?" Ryan inquired. They both had sobered a little from whatever mirth they'd possessed and were giving him the look. It was the look that said, "We know something's up so don't tell us that it's nothing." Both, Speed had noticed, were extremely observant people and quite intelligent.

'They have to be,' a little voice reasoned. 'They're running a business together.'

'Yeah. That they are,' Speed nodded to himself as he slowly explained what had just transpired between himself and Racer X. It wasn't easy but he felt better for having talked to them, even as he knew what would be said.

For a moment, after he'd finished talking, Ryan and Torie stood there, each wearing a contemplative expression. Finally, Torie met his gaze and spoke, her tone kind as usual.

"Greg, honey," she began, "you need to do what's right for you. You can't always let others influence your decisions. It's your life. No one else's."

Ryan nodded his agreement and Speed couldn't help but smile. That was exactly what he had expected her to say. It was her perspective on life, after all.

"Thanks," he murmured. "I knew that."

"Just needed to hear someone say it?"

"Yeah . . ."

Torie smiled in understanding at him then winked.

"Good," she stated, her tone teasing. "Now that you've heard it, get back to work. I'll go talk to this masked man."

"You sure?"

"Yep," she nodded. "Quite sure. Now shoo. You've got customers waiting for you."

He gave them one more smile before heading back to the main floor. He have customers waiting for their drinks, after all.

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Trixie smiled gratefully as Racer X stood up and pulled a chair out for her then turned her attention to what appeared to be an impromptu stage in the middle of the barroom floor, her nose crinkling some in disgust at the three scantily clad women wearing bunny suits.

'The nerve of some people,' she groused, looking away. Racer X and Sparky had just seated themselves. Her smile returned as she gazed at the Masked Racer.

"Thank you so much," Trixie murmured. "You don't know how much this means to us."

"Oh, I'm sure I do," came the enigmatic reply. "I just don't know how Speed's going to take the news once we tell him."

"He'll be happy about it," Trixie exclaimed, surprised that Racer X would even think that way. He'd somehow managed to spread the word to the other racers about why Speed had suddenly "decided" to take some time off. They had not liked it any more than what the Go Team had and had insisted that Speed be allowed to finish the year out. It hadn't been fair was the argument. The other racers liked the challenge that Speed had posed to them. After much hassling and many meetings, the racing committee had reluctantly agreed to allow Speed back into racing before the designated time. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Where is Speed anyway?" Sparky inquired, before Racer X could answer her.

"Well, he's . . ."

"Here's your drink, Racer X," said a familiar voice. Blinking, both she and Sparky turned their heads to see Speed standing at their table.

In a Ruby's waiter's uniform.

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"Are you sure that this is the place?"

"Quite sure," came the malicious cackle. "This is where Speed Racer is working. Waiting on _tables_ no less. I saw it with my own two eyes."

Kim Jugger glanced at the sports bar with a dubious expression, Snake Oiler and the Car Acrobatic team outside with him. It seemed like a long shot, that the great Speed Racer would be working in a joint like this.

"I see . . ."

"Hey, believe me if you want to. Or don't," Snake told him. "But I'm telling you the truth. Speed works here. Probably working right now."

"Hmmm."

"I say we go inside, Kim," Captain Terror, the leader of the group, chortled. "It would definitely be . . . satisfying to see him reduced to this. It'll make some interesting stories to tell on the racing circuit."

"Yeah," Kim sighed. "That it would. Very well then. Let's go inside."


	13. Chapter 13

Speed set Racer X's drink in front of him, trying to control the shaking of his hand as he did. Having the masked racer appear sporadically throughout his career was something Speed had accepted a while ago. It was just how Racer X operated, and there were times when Speed pretended Racer X was his older brother, Rex. Pretending had come easy for him as the masked racer often behaved the same way Speed believed Rex would.

Tonight, though, was just too much for Speed. He felt as if Racer X pitied him for his current situation, despite the fact he had made new friends and was learning a new skill. Matters were not helped by Trixie's and Sparky's shocked stares at seeing him working as a waiter. He had not told them how he was keeping himself busy.

'Stop it!' he scolded himself. 'Just stop. They're just here for a surprise visit. It changes nothing. That's all. Now focus. You're here to do a job.'

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" he asked. As he did, Speed pulled out his order tablet and pen, ready to write down what they wanted.

"Speed, what are you doing here?!" The words sounded like a hiss coming from Trixie, and he lowered his pen.

"Working," he replied. At their inquisitive and incredulous stares, Speed shrugged. "I needed something to keep me busy, and this was the one place that didn't require experience."

"So you're a waiter in a bar?"

"Actually," a feminine voice interjected, "it's a sports bar and grill. We open around eleven to serve lunch."

Torie had walked over in that moment, smiling in a most devious fashion. She slung an arm over Speed's shoulders and leaned against him.

Her sudden appearance at the table had the reaction Speed pretty much expected. Racer X shook his head, Sparky's jaw dropped as Torie was one hell of a good-looking woman, and Trixie's expression turned livid.

"Oh, and I guess there's a difference then?" Trixie said with some heat in her voice.

"Yeah." Torie nodded. She stood straight and withdrew her arm, unimpressed and not the least bit intimidated by Trixie's display of anger. "There is. Everyone is here for games and races, not the beer. That's just a bonus. Oh, and I can't forget that we have the best steak and cheese sandwiches in all of Philadelphia."

"You're biased," Speed murmured.

"That I am," Torie agreed. She winked at him, which caused Speed to shake his head. He smiled, too. "Anyway, I just came over to see if things were all right."

"They are, Vickie," Racer X said. "No one's here to cause any trouble. No worries."

"Good. I'd hate to throw out paying customers," Torie said. She winked at Speed again then turned towards the impromptu dancing platform. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get the, uh, _girls_ off the stage and hydrated. They get cranky when they haven't been fed their beers."

Speed fought back a laugh as Torie hurried away, shaking his head. He knew he would have to soothe Trixie's ruffled feathers later but, for now, he had a job to do.

"So, what can I get you?"

* * *

Trixie could not refrain from seething at seeing how chummy that blond-haired floozy had been with Speed, and Speed had let her! It had taken all of her willpower not to snap at her beau as she placed her order for some fries and a Coke.

Once Speed left their table, Trixie let out a frustrated growl. She hated it when she had to compete for Speed's attention when it came to other girls, and the night was not turning out like she had wanted. Speed still had not even heard their good news!

"Don't worry about Vickie, Trixie. She's not interested in Speed."

Trixie glanced at Racer X, startled. How had he known it was that Vickie woman who bothered her so? It was eerie to say the least!

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, trying to feign innocence.

"I think you do, and I'm saying you really have nothing to worry about when it comes to her. Do you see that man behind the bar?"

Both she and Sparky turned around to see the one Racer X was talking about. A man with medium-length dark hair and wearing a black t-shirt stood behind the actual bar, talking with the lady serving the drinks there. Speed approached them and handed over some order tickets before he picked up some more drinks. They then slid back into their original positions of facing Racer X.

"Yeah? What about him?" Trixie asked.

"Well, for one, he's Vickie's business partner. His name is Ryan."

"And that relates to Speed how?"

"He's also Vickie's boyfriend."

* * *

Kim had been expecting a dimly lit, sawdust covered, seedy establishment when he walked through the door of Ruby's. After all, if his rival worked in such a dump of a dive, Kim knew he would receive immense satisfaction of seeing Speed reduced to the low status of a waiter, serving people he disliked as well as the ones he liked. It would also give the daredevil driver the pleasure of gloating. Kim was still racing while Speed was not. It was a victory Kim never thought he would have over his rival.

However, clean floors greeted him as he entered the restaurant. There were dim lights, but it created a certain kind of atmosphere to the place. It was kind of like stepping into _Cheers_, a show Kim really liked. Sports memorabilia of all kinds decorated the walls and there were a few pool tables towards the back. The one bouncer and a few of the waitresses were rather easy on the eyes also. All in all, it was not a bad establishment for drinking, one the racer knew he could frequent often. The owners had _standards_, a zeal for what the sports fan liked, and Kim respected that. The fact his rival now worked in this wonderful place caused Kim to feel green with envy.

'He always lands on his feet, doesn't he? Damn it, how does he do it?'

"You ready for this, Kim?" Snake Oiler asked with a snicker. "Because I guarantee this is going to be a blast! The humiliation of the great Speed Racer! I can't wait!"


	14. Chapter 14

"Hey, Greg . . ."

Speed had just stepped up to the bar when Ryan said his name. He looked at the older man, curious, and he set his serving tray down as well. As far as he knew, he had done nothing to warrant any attention from his boss, but he also knew it was best to simply humour those who signed the paychecks. Ryan did not sound upset so what he wanted to say could not have been too terrible.

"Yeah?"

"You caught up on everything?" Ryan asked. He poured a beer as he spoke then handed it to a patron. "Everyone's served?"

"Yeah. For now, anyway."

It was a simple answer and the truth. All of his tables had their food and drinks. The people sitting at them were content for the moment. Ryan nodded and poured a second beer for a waiter who just handed him a ticket.

"All right then. Take a break," he said. Speed blinked, surprised at the order. "Torie will watch your tables for you while you do."

"Okay . . ."

Ryan paused in serving the drinks, his blue eyes gazing intently at Speed.

"Your friends are here, right?"

"Yeah," Speed said. "How . . ."

"Torie told me that they're here and where they're sitting. She also said you might like to visit with them for a few."

"Oh . . . I didn't even know they were going to be here, though."

"We could tell." Ryan smiled. Then he poured a glass of Coca-Cola and handed it to Speed. "Go on. It isn't everyday friends come to see you out of the blue."

"Thanks." Speed smiled in return.

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't make a habit out of it," Ryan said. "Now go on. You don't want to keep them waiting."

With the soda in hand, Speed walked through the crowd to the table where Trixie and Sparky were sitting with Racer X. He knew they were there to see him and to hang out. Speed appreciated the gesture. Living in a different city than his longtime friends prevented Speed from heading over for a visit whenever he wanted, and he was very happy to see them. They were among the few he trusted with his life; he knew he could not have asked for better people in Trixie, Sparky, and Racer X.

A part of Speed, however, felt apprehensive about their sudden and seemingly unannounced arrival. They were seated with Racer X, as if they had planned to be there and surprise him with . . . something. All over again, the war for what he knew he wanted and what everyone else wanted resumed in Speed's heart, tearing him apart inside. They meant well. Speed understood as much. He just wished they would talk with him first before they presented things and ideas to him.

'I shouldn't jump to conclusions,' Speed silently berated himself. 'It isn't fair to them. They're my friends, and I trust them. They'll support me no matter what."

"Taking a break, Speed?" Racer X inquired as he reached the table. Speed nodded as he sat next to the masked man.

"Yeah. A short one," he replied.

"Are you allowed to do that?" Sparky asked.

"What if someone needs a refill or something?" Trixie added. "Won't your bosses get mad at you for taking a break?"

Speed could not help but laugh. They were worried for him, they did not want to see him in trouble, and it touched his heart. He smiled.

"It's fine," he said. "Ryan told me to take a few minutes since you guys were here."

"Is anyone watching your section then?" Trixie tilted her head, curiosity reflecting in her eyes.

"Vickie is," Racer X answered for him. "She or Ryan will cover for the staff when it comes to breaks. They're very good about things like that."

"Yeah . . . You know an awful lot about them," Speed said. "Why is that? I haven't seen you in here since I started working."

"I've been in here a few times before," was the reply. "A year or two ago. They _do_ have the best steak and cheese sandwiches in the Philadelphia area."

"Oh . . . so why are you here now?" Speed took a drink of her soda.

"We were hoping to meet you here for dinner," Trixie stated. "I left a message on your voice mail. We have some good news for you."

"And some interesting news from me," Sparky added. He looked nervous and a bit scared. "But it can wait until after the good news."

"Okay . . . What is it?"

It was a moment of truth for Speed. He could tell by the way Trixie smiled, how her features lit up, and how her eyes shimmered with what Speed believed to be victory.

"The racing commission says you can race again," she declared, her tone filled with happiness. "Several drivers found out about the ultimatum they gave you and demanded that you be allowed back onto the track. They miss you, and they can't wait to race you again. They said it wasn't the same, and the commission relented! You can go back to racing next week! Isn't that wonderful?"

888888888

"So what do you think is going on?" Ryan asked. He and Torie were watching the exchange between Greg Racer and his friends. At least, they were trying to watch. The only one they truly saw was Greg and his expressions, and, to Ryan, the younger man appeared torn by what one of them was saying.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "Could be anything, really."

"Maybe his girlfriend is telling him she's pregnant," Ryan offered. Torie snorted.

"Probably _not_."

"Oh? And why is that?" he asked. He then winked at his girlfriend. "Not everyone is abstinent."

Torie looked at him as if to say, you really need to ask, then shook her head. She smiled as she did.

"He strikes me as being something of a gentleman and a prude combined." Ryan raised an eyebrow at her. It sounded as if she were saying he was not a gentleman, which he knew she was not implying. She then laughed. "Remember when he caught us 'accidentally' making out in the office?"

"I've never seen a guy turn so many shades of red," Ryan commented.

"Exactly. If she _is_ pregnant, it's probably by someone else, but that doesn't seem likely to me so . . . I don't know what they're saying. Besides, she could have shown up herself for an announcement like that. There are two other guys at the table."

"Hmmm . . . what makes you think she wouldn't cheat?" Ryan asked. Torie laughed.

"She's Patty Loveless. She has a jealous bone."

"That doesn't mean anything," Ryan said. "Look at how Shelly behaves towards me."

"Shelly's a slut and a psycho. She's an exception to the rule, and she does it to try and make _you_ jealous. Greg's girlfriend, she loves him, and she doesn't want anyone touching the man who is hers," Torie said. "Not always a good thing at times, but that's the impression I got when I was over there."

"Are you speaking from experience?" he teased. There was a particular situation when Torie had almost knocked his head off for something he had not done, but she had been quick to believe him. It was something they did not discuss often, though. It was not that important.

Torie rolled her eyes at his comment. Then she punched him, playfully, in the arm.

"As if you wouldn't have reacted the same way in that situation."

"You know me better than anyone," he said. Torie smiled, and it was that loving smile she gave him every day, a smile that always melted Ryan. His heart skipped a beat whenever it came his way, which was often.

"I do," she replied, leaning against him for a brief moment. "Just like you know me. So I'll ask you. What do you think they're talking about?"

"In all honesty?" Ryan said. "Greg's departure."

888888888

"The service here stinks!"

Kim cringed as Snake Oiler loudly proclaimed his disdain for the restaurant and hoped like hell the car acrobat did not get them kicked out. He rather liked the place. The food tasted excellent, the drinks were served how they were ordered, and the waitresses were very easy on a guy's eyes. He even grudgingly admitted the group's waiter, one Speed Racer, was doing an excellent job. Speed greeted them with a smile, told them what the specials were, and made recommendations. The former racecar champion was a perfect host.

The Car Acrobat team members, however, insisted on becoming belligerent, rude, and whiny. They had chosen to sit in Racer's section on _purpose_ so they could gloat over his current employment status. To them, it was funny to see Speed reduced to working a common and not-so-glamourous job. The group also demanded the most ridiculous of things, like the beer being too cold or too warm when such statements were not true, in an effort to annoy Racer and cause him to lose his temper. They wanted their rival to get in trouble with his boss, and what better way was there than to aggravate someone to the point of an emotional outburst?

So far, the Car Acrobat Team's efforts had been in vain. Speed plastered a smile on his face, remained calm and polite each time, and served them in a timely and efficient manner. Whatever errors they perceived, he corrected them. He had not given any of them good reason for complaint, but it looked as if the Car Acrobat Team members were going to try anyway, much to Kim's dismay, shame and humiliation.

"Is there a problem?" a female voice inquired. All of the men turned their heads to see a beautiful, petite blond-haired woman dressed in tight, faded blue jeans and a white baby doll t-shirt standing at the end of the table. She did not appear to be happy.

"No," Kim replied, sensing a hint of danger surrounding the woman. She may not have looked like much, but she held herself as if she were a deadly weapon, capable of committing many sins. "There is no problem at all."

Normally, Kim did not "bow" to a woman. In his country, women deferred to their fathers and their husbands, but he knew damn well he was not in his homeland. He was in America, and the women were not afraid to stand toe-to-toe with a man.

"Says him," Snake retorted. "But I have a problem. The service here stinks. Lousiest I've ever received in a place. Our waiter . . ."

"Hasn't been over in ten minutes," she finished. "I know. I've been watching, and I must say he's doing the best he can. It's a busy night. You might want to consider cutting him a little slack. A person can only move so fast, you know."

Snake's face turned bright red, and his indignation began to show. He leapt to his feet, ready to continue fighting. It was not a wise idea, in Kim's estimation.

"I want to see a manager," he yelled. "And I want to see one now!"

The woman folded her arms as a dark-haired man walked over and joined her. He, too, folded his arms in front of him. Kim felt a chill steal over him as he watched. They represented a unified front and lethal. Then the woman said something no one at the table expected.

"You're looking at them."

888888888

Speed's heart hammered hard and fast. His hands shook as he reached for his serving tray, the trembling something that had not occurred since he first started working for Ryan and Torie.

Before, though, when he was learning how to do his job, his hands shook due to anxiety and a desire to get his work done the proper way. A few of the patrons had been rude and snide, always making nasty comments about how new he was, but Speed learned from those experiences. He did not get upset over the little things, and he smiled because it further aggravated the ones trying to rile him. As a result, Speed enjoyed his job, even on the bad days, and there were things he learned to expect from people.

Snake Oiler pulling the stunt he did by complaining was something Speed expected from his rival. The man would not have been seated in his section if the hostess had known he was going to stir up trouble. Torie and Ryan nearly throwing the belligerent man out was no surprise to him, either. They were strong like that, and Speed felt proud to know the couple. He also felt honoured. It was not everyday one met two people with the integrity and compassion Ryan and Torie displayed, and it staggered Speed to realize he had gotten lucky in meeting them.

They were also good people to have as friends, and Speed intended to keep them as such. Ryan and Torie were like an older brother and sister. They listened when he needed a friendly ear, and they offered him advice and their opinions when he required guidance. Ryan and Torie were his family away from his family, unconditional support just like his longtime friends.

Speed just hoped they could help him now.


	15. Chapter 15

"_I do not make this decision lightly."_

He sighed softly and tilted his head as he gazed out his window. Philadelphia possessed a wonderful evening view, especially in the location of Speed's apartment complex. The city lights graced the horizon, creating a contrast between where the night sky ended and the artificial glow began. On occasion, he could see the Liberty Bell, but only when the streets were not quite so crowded with pedestrians and motorists alike.

Tonight, it seemed, was not one of those nights, but then Speed really did not care. His thoughts remained on Trixie's announcement and on the advice he asked for and received from Ryan and Torie.

"_Do what's best for you, Greg. It's _your_ life, not theirs. No one can live your life for you. Whatever you decide, though, know we'll be behind you one hundred percent, okay? We'll always keep a position open for you."_

The words Ryan and Torie had spoken to him was their way of saying "We don't want to see you leave, but we'll understand if you do." They were cool like that, and Speed doubted he would ever find another employer like the O'Connell/Cronkhite team. However, he also understood his sudden departure, if he returned like Sparky and Trixie said he could, would send the duo scrambling to find another waiter to take Speed place. Ruby's was constantly busy thanks to the lunch and dinner specials, even in the middle of the week, and the couple had placed the ad Speed answered to keep up with the demand. Leaving Ryan and Torie high and dry with no real explanation had Speed feeling sick to his stomach. They had taken a chance on him. He was not about to repay their kindness by leaving them in a lurch.

"In fact, it's with a heavy heart that I even say this, but . . . I'll be taking the next year off from racing."

His own words haunted him. He said he was taking a year off at that press conference, and he had held the press conference only because of the ultimatum given to him by the racing commission. Speed told them, and the world, he needed a break from racing and that his year off would allow him to re-focus on what was really important to him. At the time, his words were a little white lie, carefully chosen so his racing team would not suffer from his stubbornness. What would happen if he returned before the designated time? Would the world see him as a liar? Granted, his announcement had taken the press, and his fans, by surprise, and he knew they wanted to see him back on the track. However, his own life had thrown him for a loop. Did he even _want_ to return to racing? After all, he liked his job at Ruby's, he liked his co-workers, and he liked his bosses. No one truly knew who he was, and it had been a very welcomed relief to not be mobbed by large groups of screaming, squealing fangirls. His words for requiring a year off no longer felt as false as when they had first been spoken.

Finally, as Speed gazed at the barely darkened sky of the Philadelphia horizon, he thought of something he had not been able to face since he started his racing career. What would he do if he could no longer race? Many things could happen on the track, events that no one could control and that could end a man's career. Some drivers lost their lives on the track, sometimes during practice and qualifying runs and sometimes during a race. Others were seriously injured in similar situations, their careers over in a single crash. While Speed had always been lucky, he understood his luck would not always hold out for him. Was he prepared for something slipping out of his realm of control and robbing him of the one thing he loved doing more than anything else?

The answer was 'no', he was not ready for his racing career to ever end. Racing was the one thing he knew how to do, what he loved to do, and what he wanted to die doing. The racing commission with its ultimatum had forced Speed to consider what his life would be like if he could no longer race, and what he was discovering was scary. He possessed no skills other than the ability to drive a car and listen. His entire world had centered on racing. It still did, but, now that he was aware of what could await him, Speed wanted to do something more than wait tables at the end of his career. The final question remaining was how was he going to accomplish what he wanted?

"Speed? Are you all right?"

He turned to face Trixie, smiling a little, and he nodded. At the same time, Speed wondered when she had approached, as he had not heard her walking up behind him. A light frown touched her features.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Shouldn't you be asleep? I know it was a long flight from San Francisco to here."

"I couldn't sleep," she said, joining him next to the sliding window. "I was worried about you. I still am."

"I'm fine, Trix. Really."

"But you're not," Trixie murmured. "I can tell you. You had this strange look on your face when I told you the racing commission reversed its decision. I thought you would have been happy to hear that you could race again, but you weren't happy at all, Speed. Why is that?"

"I don't know," Speed replied. "I guess I just got used to the idea of having a year off. And I guess the commissioners were right. I really don't know what it's like to lose a race. I've always won at everything I've ever set out to do. Not everyone has been lucky like that. Maybe it's just time for me to be out of the spotlight for a while."

"Speed, that's just ridiculous! You won those races through hard work, talent, and skill!" Trixie retorted. "It isn't your fault that you're the _best_ race car driver out there! Everyone else is just second-rate!"

"And how many of those drivers just quit trying to catch me?" Speed murmured, keeping his voice low. "You know how fast the Mach 5 is, Trixie. There are some people who would simply give up trying to catch me and beat me in a race. Some of them probably already have. Where's the thrill in that?"

"Then they don't deserve to be racing," Trixie said with some heat. "They're not real race car drivers. Not like you."

"They probably think the same thing about me, Trixie, that I'm not a real race car driver because I've never lost a race. I don't know what it's like to lose. They also probably think that _I_ don't deserve to be racing. They're probably right, too."

"Since when did what other drivers think become important to you?" Trixie asked.

"Since I don't want to lose the thrill of racing," Speed replied quietly. "Where's the thrill if the competition simply gives up?"

"Racer X hasn't given up," the petite brunette pointed out.

'Because he's my brother,' Speed thought. 'He won't ever give up trying to beat me in a race. He's like me. He wants the competition to be real, the victory to be honest. He just hasn't realized it yet.'

"That's because Racer X is Racer X," he replied. "He's always looking for ways to improve his skills."

"You can do the same thing!"

"I know . . . but I don't think I'm ready to go back to racing just yet," he murmured. "I think . . . I want to stay here . . . in Philadelphia for a while . . ."

"And at that bar?"

"Yeah . . ." Speed slowly nodded. "I guess so. Ryan and Torie, they've become like family to me, you know?"

"Especially Torie?" Trixie asked, her tone leading. Speed resisted the urge to sigh and shake his head.

"There is no 'especially,' Trixie. She is so into Ryan, it isn't even funny. She doesn't even look at other guys like that. Watching them drove me crazy because I missed you so much. I wanted you here with me."

"Really?" Trixie sounded surprised and very relieved.

"Yeah. Really. Ryan and Torie like a brother and sister to me. That's all."

"I can relate to that," she said slowly. A smile started to replace her frown and her expression of indignation. "And I can see why would you feel that way, too."

"Can you?"

"Yes. Speed, I saw how they stood up for you tonight," Trixie said. "I also saw how concerned they were when you were talking with them after that whole Snake incident. They truly care about you. We all were."

"Yeah," Speed said, laughing a little. "I was afraid there was going to be a huge fight after you, Racer X, and Sparky got up. The last thing I wanted to see was you guys getting kicked out for brawling."

"Would they have really kicked us out?"

"They would," Speed confirmed, moving to sit on his couch. Trixie followed, and Speed leaned back his gaze on the ceiling. "Ryan and Torie don't tolerate things like that in their establishment. It really is a good place to work."

For a moment, Trixie watched him, her expression unreadable. She was not going to like what he was about to say next, and she seemed to anticipate what his words were going to be. She rested a hand on his arm.

"You're going to stay here, aren't you? With Ryan and Torie?"

Speed nodded his head slowly. His heart ached when he saw how sad she looked, but he knew there was not much for it. Life was offering him something different, and he wanted to see where this road in front of him was leading. He continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I am. It's time I learned a few things, and I really like this place a lot. I can't leave them scrambling to find someone new. It's just not cool, you know?"

He heard Trixie sigh and sensed her shaking her head more than he saw it.

"You're a stubborn man, Speed Racer," she exclaimed, keeping her voice quiet. "But I love you anyway. I'll see what I can do about joining you."

"Won't that leave your boss scrambling to find a new pilot?" he asked. The ache in his heart grew with a decision he knew he could not make on his own. He only hoped he and Trixie could remain as friends once he made his suggestion.

"I can always train another person, Speed," Trixie said. "They really don't need me . . ."

"Actually, I think they do," Speed murmured. "If they hadn't needed you as badly as they did, they wouldn't have hired you, Trix."

"I know, and I know it'd take me longer than two weeks to train someone . . ."

At this, Speed sat up and turned to face her. He shook his head, silencing her.

"I don't want you to do that," he said. "I don't want you to give up something you're enjoying because of me. You like what you're doing, and you've made new friends out there. I know you have. You've talked about them. I can't ask you to leave them like that, not when I can't leave Philadelphia like that. It's just _wrong_."

"Speed, it's no big . . ." Her words trailed off, and she lowered her head. "I want to be with you . . ."

"I know, Trix," Speed murmured. "Believe me, I know, I love you, and I want to be with you, too. But I think . . . I think we need to live out what it is we're doing, and see where things take us. This whole thing with the racing commission, it happened for a reason."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Speed inhaled a little then continued. All the while, he hated himself. "I'm saying we should be friends for now, and see where our lives take us. We're in two different cities right now for whatever reasons, and we're working jobs that we enjoy very, very much. I know you like what you're doing. You always have enjoyed flying a helicopter more than driving. I can't, and I won't, ask you to give that up."

"You're such a jerk," Trixie muttered, pulling away from him. Tears were spilling down her cheeks.

"Trixie . . ." Speed started to reach for her.

"But you're right."

He paused. Slowly, she lifted her head.

"You're right," she continued. "A part of me doesn't want to leave San Francisco. I do like it there. I just wish we could go back to how things were."

"We can't, though," he said, his tone quiet. "I don't want to pretend this part of my life never existed or happened. It wouldn't be right to the people we've met and turned into friends and family."

"I know," she said with a sigh. "I know . . . It's just . . . this hurts."

"I don't want to hurt you, Trixie."

"How long?"

"How long what?" Speed blinked.

"How long ago did you decide you wanted us to be friends for right now?" she asked. Trixie wiped away some of her tears.

"Since you and Sparky showed up at Ruby's tonight," Speed replied. "I mean, you seemed really happy when you told me the racing commission relented and said I could race again, but it just didn't seem . . . right, I guess. When we talked before on the phone, you were always talking about your friends and how well your job was going. It made me wonder if you really wanted to leave all of that behind."

"I never really thought about it . . ."

Speed walked over and wrapped his arms around her. Trixie leaned against him as he did, and she let out another sigh.

"This is then, isn't it?" she murmured. "This is . . . goodbye . . ."

"No," Speed said. "It isn't goodbye . . . we're not ending anything."

"Then what are we doing, Speed? If we're not saying goodbye, then what are we saying?"

"We're starting something new, Trixie, and we're saying hello to whatever the future has in store for us."


End file.
